ᴀ sᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ's ᴅᴀʏ - Nick Miller

ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ

Cassy was only relatively awake when she entered the loft the next morning. Jess happily served her some breakfast and coffee, and Cassy could have cried.

Schmidt slammed his computer shut in frustration, making Cassy look up from beside him.

"I lost it." He said softly. "I lost the party bus." Cassy put a hand on his arm in sympathy.

"The party bus for your birthday party?" Jess asked.

"Yeah." Schmidt answered, spinning around in his chair. "Apparently my business isn't as important as Frankie Muniz's. They cancelled my rez. There's nothing I can do. Party's off."

"You should torch them on Yelp." Cassy suggested.

"Oh, I can do it! I have an account under the name Fantastic Jacques. He's a french diplomat with very little patience." Jess explained excitedly.

"Or," Winston cut in, "You could just get another bus."

"In two days?" Schmidt scoffed. "Okay, yeah, sure Winston. Why- why don't I just go down to the party bus store where all of the party busses have a state-of-the-art sound system, a stripper pole, love grotto, and steering wheel in the shape of a boob... you honk the nipple. It's pretty awesome." He explained. Cassy cringed.

"Just have the party at a bar." Nick suggested. Cassy nodded in agreement.

"Nick, this is it!" Schmidt snapped. "This is my 29th birthday party. This is the year. After this, it's just... I don't know, all darkness." He got up, leaving the room in amused melancholy. Nick turned to the rest of them, raising an eyebrow.

"Was he crying a little?" He asked. Cassy laughed, shaking her head. Jess went into Schmidt's room to double check if he was okay. She came out after a few minutes later, some very sad music playing from inside.

"Okay, I've got it." Jess whispered.

"Got what?" Cassy asked.

"We are gonna throw Schmidt a birthday party." Jess replied.

"No." Nick immediately said.

"Yes, because it's his 29th birthday, and we care." Jess pressed.

"Are we sure that's a good idea? Schmidt is the type of man with expectations." Cassy murmured.

"Jess, Schmidt's world is different than ours. They speak a different language. They shorten every word to one syllable, okay?" Nick explained. "He once called an oven an "ovs". He calls an airport, "airp.""

"He calls ketchup "ketch."" Winston added.

"Last month he went to a party called Bros before Hos on the Moon." Cassy remembered.

"What does that even mean?" Nick asked.

"The dress code was "yacht flair.""

"Schmidt has a friend that legally changed his middle name to "Doin' it."" Winston added. "Just one word. "Doinit.""

"You are not emotionally, physically, and spiritually prepared to throw these d-bags a party." Nick claimed.